


The Nag's Head

by jprongs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Community: rs_games, First War with Voldemort, M/M, R/S Games 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 11:26:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8487544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jprongs/pseuds/jprongs
Summary: R/S Games 2016 - Day 27 - Team PlaceEverything happens at The Nag's Head. Remus always get the shepherd's pie and Sirius smothers his dinner in mint gravy. At least, of course, until they realize why they've actually been sent to town.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Team:** Place  
>  **Title:** The Nag's Head  
>  **Rating:** Teen  
>  **Warnings:** None  
>  **Genres:** First Wizarding War, Mostly Canon Compliant  
>  **Word Count:** 8200  
>  **Summary:** Everything happens at The Nag's Head. Remus always get the shepherd's pie and Sirius smothers his dinner in mint gravy. At least, of course, until they realize why they've actually been sent to town.  
>  **Notes:** If the formatting doesn't come up write, let me know and I'll redo it. I type everything in docs, so it's fairly easy to go back through it. It's just reeeeaaally late.  
>  **Prompt:** #17 - ["1979" by The Smashing Pumpkins](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4aeETEoNfOg)

If this was one of those stories with a happy ending, this would be the _end_.

 

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Do I have something on my face?”

“Well, no.”

Remus glanced up from the thousand and some page book on cursed places that he’d been half-reading-half-actually-daydreaming. “You sure? Cause you’re fucking staring. Again.”

“You’re more interesting than waiting on a shakedown from Moody when he realizes that Dung has skived off researching the most boring subjects in Britain tonight.”

“Right.”

“...Right.” Sirius concerned himself with watching his quill roll down into the center of the table anytime he put it on the hump of the page he hadn’t been reading for two hours.

He wiped his face anyway, just in case there was the stray biscuit crumb. Sirius might get the sudden desire to lick him and Remus couldn’t have that and still be expected to actually read any of this nonsense. Did Dumbledore actually believe that Voldemort was going to hex the drapery or the seventh step on the second floor to thwart them? Most likely not. Either way, it was better than Sturgis’ book on Moroccan potions ingredients. Honestly, it was seeming to look like they were just taking shots in the dark any way they could at the moment, hoping something stuck. 

“We need a pub break.” Sirius had resorted to rocking back on two legs in his chair.

“No we don’t.” He dogeared his book and then glared at Sirius. “Maybe you need a pub break. I can’t even concentrate with you constantly spouting absolute nonsense.”

That made Sirius grin and shove his book into the middle of the kitchen table. “C’mon, let’s go for a drink. We haven’t done that in ages.”

“We went for a drink last week. Wednesday, in fact.” 

“Shut up and get your coat on, Moony. It’s 1979. Live a little.”

Begrudgingly, Remus stood and took his coat from off the back of his chair, pulled it on, and buttoned it. When he looked over, Sirius was zipping his leather jacket and putting a cigarette between his lips. The image took him back to seventh year before Hogsmeade weekends and made him smile.

“I vote the Nag’s Head. What do you think?” He flipped his collar and ran a hand through his shoulder length, dark hair.

Remus shrugged, not having the effort to argue that the Nag’s Head played the music far too loud and was full of arseholes. It was the exact type of place Sirius would want to go. Personally, he prefered The Mill or anything that wasn’t lit up like a Christmas tree with drunk wizards trying to forget about the war. “Sure, we can go to the Nag’s.”

“Spectacular.” Sirius grinned and locked elbows with Remus, leading him out the door.

The street was empty, but most wizarding areas tended to be at this time of night and the tiny coastal town they’d been staying in was no different. Even the muggles knew something was up. The only few places that were even open at half eleven on a Thursday night and they were all pubs. 

Remus pulled the lapels of his jacket closer to him with his free hand, trying to keep the wind among other things from his exposed neck and collar. Sirius, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind the chill and let his hair out of the mess twist he’d kept it in for his so-called researching. Sirius Black’s idea of researching was watching Remus Lupin jot down notes and comment on them with the right corner of his lips turned up, waiting for the latter’s eyes to glance up and glare. They’d been doing this dance for two weeks now, and Remus was more than tiring of it.

As they rounded the corner into the alley between Lloyd’s and a muggle electronics shop, Sirius broke away from him to pull out his wand and tap it three times on the street lamp. A crooked red door pushed itself through the bricks in front of them and after another second, an iron sign creaked through the mortar to swing loudly above them as if it had always been there.

“The Nag’s Head. Est. 1642.” Sirius read the sign aloud as he always did, and then like a broken record, he added, “And the staff hasn’t changed since.”

“Yes, Padfoot, very funny.” Remus ducked his head to follow Sirius through the crooked doorway.

Cledwyn, the barkeep, gave them a nod as they walked in. His dark beard was flecked with grey and Sirius swore that the man at the end of the bar, next to the till, was his husband. Remus didn’t have the heart to remind him that the marriage wouldn’t be legitimate, even in wizarding culture. Even so, Remus thought much of the reason Sirius suffered through the loud choruses of folk songs and the shady patrons had to do with Sirius’ romanticism of the whole place. It reminded Remus of the Hog’s Head in both the best and worst ways.

“Y’ lads et yet or y’ orderin’?” Cledwyn asked, already pouring two pints.

“Remus’ll have the cawl, yeah?” Sirius looked to Remus to confirm. “And I’ll get a lamb dinner with extra mint gravy on the side. Thanks, mate.”

Remus grabbed both pints and took them to their usual high top in the back while Sirius paid. He smiled fondly, watching Sirius joke with the bartender and his alleged other half. He could start a conversation with just about anyone.

A hand flattened on the high top, making it tilt slightly. The fingers poking out of the fingerless woven gloves were a bit mucky as if their owner had been digging on the rocky beach for some time. “ _Shwmae._ ”

Remus looked up and met the eyes of a man far too tan to have spent his summer on the Welsh coast. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he wrapped his head around the crows feet and lack of laugh lines. “ _Helo._ ”

“ _O ble wyt ti'n dod?_ ” The man asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Borth.” Remus answered him plainly, very suspicious of being asked where they were from. It wasn’t necessarily a lie. He’d lived there once. Remus’ sparse knowledge of the Welsh language from his childhood was the reason they’d been sent here in the first place. Not everyone in the Order had been raised in over a dozen villages with populations as large as Gryffindor Tower.

The man’s face softened just as Sirius gently pushed passed him to sit the plates in front of him. Off of the look Remus gave him, he simply nodded. “Nos da.” It was one of the few phrases Sirius didn’t butcher.

Satisfied, but still every bit as creepy, the man with fingerless gloves and no laugh lines returned to a table of equally as grimey men.

Remus was able to exhale and was suddenly thankful for the overarching noise of the pub. “If I was Peter, I’d bet you a sickle those are the two-bit smugglers Moody mentioned.”

Sirius spared no time in cutting off a hunt of lamb that was far too large to be considered polite and proper etiquette. It was one of those times he was forcibly removing his upbringing from his mannerisms. Remus ignored it.

“Cledwyn have anything interesting to say?” Remus pushed his mash to the edge of the crock and avoided Sirius’ knowing eyes.

“No, but I bet those scummy bastards do. What did he want?” Sirius spoke though a mouth full of carrots.

“Wanted to know where we were from.” 

They ate with mild small talk and lingering questions which neither of them particularly wanted to answer about the three men at the table by the front entrance. At one point, Remus rested his glasses on the table and scrubbed at his eyes. He wondered where James and Lily and Marlene and Peter and Caradoc and Frank were. Remus wasn’t privy to any of that information, even the simple truths as to who was paired or grouped together. Hell, they could all be having a pint just off Lime Street and he and Sirius would be none the wiser.

Sirius brushed his knuckles against Remus’ once he set a and back on the table. “Where’s your head at, Moony?” He’d gotten Remus to look up and meet his grey eyes, which was like game over for Remus.

“Nowhere - everywhere.” He had to admit it at some point, probably. “I’m just missing everyone.”

“Hey, the cool kids never have the time to miss someone.” Sirius offered him a smile and Remus raised it with an eye roll. “We’ll see them soon. Moody will come by and then…” He trailed off because there was no ‘and then’. It would be another mission, one where they were potentially torn apart, and whatever they had been tiptoeing around would be lost amongst dusty books and fearing for their lives.

Remus pressed his hand into Sirius’ rough knuckles, staring the space between their fingers as if it was going to set fire at any moment. But instead of saying something ridiculous or changing the subject, Sirius stretched his hand out enough so that their fingers slid into each other slowly. 

All Remus could do was look down at the scar coming out from under the sleeve of his sweater. He followed the vein on the back of his hand to where the tip of Sirius’ finger pressed into it. Sirius’ palm was warm, and he closed his grasp over Sirius’ hand gingerly.

“Brought y’ lads another pint.” Cledwyn’s interruption caused Remus to nearly knock the salt shaker clear across the pub with his elbow as he broke physical contact.  
Luckily Sirius had quick reflexes. “Ta.”

Cledwyn nodded and walked back behind the bar, either oblivious or uncaring. Remus was unsure which he prefered.

“Moony…” Sirius called out a whisper to him, but Remus was too focused on watching the three creepy men getting up and leaving. When he didn’t respond a second time, Sirius’ impatience got the best of him and he reached out to grab Remus’ hand.

Startled, Remus met his eyes for the second time over dinner, but he didn’t take his hand away. Instead he downed half his fresh pint, pulled Sirius’ arm across the table, and leaned in so their noses were no more than an inch apart. “The whole scummy crew have just gone and left. I have a feeling we should follow.”

It was electric how Sirius’ breath hitched and caught in his throat. The fact that Remus had that effect on him made it tempting just to lean another inch across the table.  
“I have a few feelings, but that wasn’t the first one I was going with.” Sirius searched Remus’ face, but, with a raised eyebrow, Remus was able to deflect him and give away nothing more than he already had by still having his fingers entwined in Sirius’.

“C’mon before we lose them.”

Sirius nodded and dropped a few coins on the counter to pay for the second round.

Remus threw a wave to Cledwyn and caught a quick glimpse of his potential husband turning to look toward them. The man’s long red hair curtained over his face, but Remus still held his hand to him in goodbye.

His other hand, however, was still wrapped up in Sirius’. Remus looked down and he nearly wanted to jerk it away as if he were on a live wire. Instead he followed Sirius out of the pub.

They trailed the three shady wizards through the windy rows of terraced houses to the promenade where they were wandering their way to the oversized hill that overlooked the small coastal town.

A thought struck Remus. “I told the bald one we were from Borth.”

“What’s a Borth?” Sirius asked, swinging his and Remus’ arms like a bored child. It had been a few weeks since they’d done much more than research and reconnaissance, so Remus was well aware that he was itching for anything.

“Borth is what’s on the other side of that.” Remus pointed toward the mountain with his freehand.

“Bugger all.” Sirius screwed up his nose and sighed. “We’re not actually climbing that thing, are we?”

“Fuck no. Are you mental, Padfoot?” With a laugh, Remus pulled him behind a phone booth and winked. Sirius’ eyes were wide with promise for a second before Remus apparated them to the top of the cliff.

“A little warning next time, Moony?” Sirius shook himself a bit like a dog and then pushed Remus behind a mossy boulder when the three men started craning their necks around before disappearing right up off the street with presumably the same idea Remus had.

From behind the giant rock, they heard a crack and a smattering of hushed arguing.

“What are they on about?” Sirius whispered into Remus’ ear.

Remus shrugged and put a finger to Sirius’ lips so he’d stop talking.

“I knew I recognized them from summit!” The bald one rasped, making Remus clench his eyes shut with mild annoyance that they hadn’t hidden themselves better at the Nag’s Head.

“Are you sure, Crouch?” One of the others didn’t sound as convinced.

The third one started snickering to himself. “Oh, I’m sure. I’d know Black anywhere.”

Remus opened his eyes and mouthed ‘Crouch?’ to Sirius who balled his free fist and mouthed ‘Junior’ back to him, to which he nodded. 

Neither of them had seen Barty Crouch Jr. since leaving Hogwarts, but they hadn’t recognized him at the table either.

“Jugson, you said the bloke spoke Welsh?” The skeptical one asked the bald one.

“That’s because Lupin’s Welsh, you daft bastard,” Crouch Jr said.

“Said he was from Borth, he did!” the man who must’ve been Jugson argued.

Sirius flinched, trying to move his and ending up half in Remus’ lap.

“What in Circe’s name are you doing?” Remus hissed, trying to shove him off.

“My bloody foot’s asleep!” Sirius grumbled.

“For fuck’s sake, Sirius.”

From his spot half poured into Remus’ lap, Sirius grinned at him. “You and I should meet like this more often.”

He tried to hide his smile from Sirius, but when that proved impossible, Remus rolled his eyes. 

“We’ll deal with them later, Avery.” Crouch growled.

Remus and Sirius exchanged glances. They’d only heard of Avery Sr and as they hadn’t recognized the voice, it couldn’t have been his son. None of the rumors were anything to be proud of on his part.

“Do you think they’re here for it?” Jugson asked over the sound of him flicking his lighter.

“They were Gryffindors.” Crouch said indignantly. 

“No one would think to visit Hepzibah’s estranged son all these years later on a hunch.”

Remus looked over at Sirius. “Who’s Hepzibah?”

“Dunno? Why does it matter that we’re Gryffindors?” Sirius chewed on his lip, still not moving off of Remus’ thigh, which was now spreading with pins and needles. It was getting difficult to breath and concentrate at the same time.

They listened more as the three bickered about a cup, a crown, and a necklace. They had little to no information other than Voldemort’s interest in the three objects - weren’t even sure if he’d found those. The only thing they seemed to know was that they’d been sent to ransack the son of someone named Hepzibah Smith’s home here in town and see if anything pertaining to Godric Gryffindor was there. Remus wondered if Dumbledore had any mild inclination of this when he sent Sirius and himself here for ‘research’ and to lie low for a bit.

A muffled groan escaped Sirius, and he twitched his foot around. Remus clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was enough that the three men stopped talking on the other side of the boulder.

 _Fuck_.

Both of them scrambled around the right side of the boulder as they heard footsteps crunching rocks around the left side. 

“Who’s there?” Crouch Jr. shouted.

Sirius gripped his wand and put a protective arm over Remus’ chest.

His own wand held tightly a few inches in front of him, Remus held his breath and watched as a june bug crawled over the top of his shoe. It was such a subtle reminder that they were completely out in the open and susceptible to just about anything atop the hilltop cliff. A mere few feet from them was the rocky edge where it plummeted down to a beach about seven hundred feet below.

Just as Remus was about to crab walk further around the boulder, he turned to his right and Barty Crouch Jr. was just grinning at him. _Double Fuck_. Remus was quick enough to slash his wand and send Crouch Jr. stumbling back, which gave him and Sirius enough time to stand up back to back with their wands pointed at the three scummy men who they could now name: Avery, Jugson, and Crouch.

“Alright, lads?” Sirius asked, doing that thing that he learned from his pureblood upbringing where he was so charming that, Remus nearly vomited.

“If it isn’t the disinherited Black! We ‘eard ‘bout you, mate.” Jugson grinned through yellowed teeth and Remus prayed that Sirius didn’t start tossing insults around like lottery tickets.

“Great, so we all know each other? Fancy a pint? I know a great place-” Sirius started, biding his time while he formulated which impulsive maneuver he was going to go for that Remus disapproved of and would ultimately allow them to graze by just on the skin of their teeth.

“How about we just take you back to Mummy and see what has to say?”

“I reckon she’d probably call him a no good traitor of her loins.” Remus darted his eyes from each of their three opponents, turning in step with Sirius so they could cover each other. “At least that’s what she said last time.”

“And what about your loins, Lupin?” It was Crouch Jr. this time. “I saw the two of you getting extra chummy.”

“I’d watch your own loins, Crouch.” Remus rounded back towards Crouch, winked, and threw a stunning spell that he blocked, but it still set him back a few paces.  
_Remus, when I throw my wand to the right, go under my arm and attack low. Okay?_ Sirius’ voice rang through his head fuzzy and as if they were underwater. It was something they’d been working on, but only worked as well when there was physical contact. 

_Jugson seems thick as shite. If we stun him, then it’s one on one_. Remus responded, but Sirius didn’t reply. Instead, Sirius threw his wand to the right, blasting Avery with a jolt of red from his wand that sent the older man back.

Ducking underneath Sirius’ arm, they switched spots and any telepathic connection was severed once Remus whipped his wand underhand to hit Jugson square in the chest with a stunning spell which caused him to topple over into the brush. This left him with Avery, who was a much more traditional dueler than the spontaneous and unpredictable Crouch Jr - it was a challenge that Remus knew Sirius would have fun with.

If a wizard could have a perfect form with their wand, the elder Avery had it. Remus wondered if maybe he didn’t pay his son much mind as the Avery he remembered from school used a fist grip like a toddler would hold a spoon. Remus stooped, then hit the ground to avoid a flash of green, immediately putting up a protection charm for Avery to use up most of his energy battering it.

A few dozen curse backward and forward and Remus was out of breath, had a busted lip, and was really wishing he was back in the Nag’s Head holding Sirius’ hand over their twelfth pint and trying to drum up the courage to actually say words.

 _Reducto_! Remus cast over his shoulder as he braced himself against an uneven cliff and wiped the blood from his mouth. He could hear something crumble on the other side and Avery shouting to get out of the way. Catching his breath, Remus darted out and flung spells in three different directions to try and get to Sirius.

If he could’ve taken a moment to stare in awe at Sirius Black, he would’ve loved to. He was in his element, having a grand ol’ time and shooting hexes and curses more to taunt Crouch Jr. than anything else. They were two unpredictable time bombs doing a jig back and forth across the rocks. In the end, Sirius won out and cursed Barty Crouch Jr., sending him skipping like a stone a few feet from Remus. 

Blocking Jugson’s Cruciatus Curse, Remus swatted away a few more spells here and there, but wasn’t expecting such a quick recovery from Crouch Jr. In the midst of dueling, he’d ignored his former schoolmate lying there - well, until he physically could not ignore him because Crouch Jr. had wrapped his arm around Remus’ neck and shoved his wand hard enough against his throat that it was difficult to swallow.

****************************

If he’d payed any attention to the sky, he would’ve noticed that his star was shining right down on them like a speeding car with the headlights pointed at the dawn. And not to be entirely poetic - because that was James’ game through and through - Remus was his god damned sun. Technically, moon. Regardless, if Barty Crouch Jr. and his beak of a nose so much as left a scratch on his Moony, Sirius was going to tear him in half.

Eyes wide, he ran towards them, but his elbow caught on a hooked hand and he ended up face-to-face with Jugson. The cockney bastard smashed his forehead into Sirius’ and his laugh echoed from ear to ear. 

Sirius stumbled backwards until his shoulders his the waiting palms of Richard Avery Sr. He remembered him from attempted playdates with the malicious Richard Avery Jr. that didn’t continue after Sirius put porridge down the younger boy’s trousers.

“Play nice, Crouch.” Avery’s voice was sickly smooth and had far too much baritone in it. It wasn’t the Sirius didn’t like a deep male voice, because, well, Moony’s was fucking gorgeous. But this was something he’d expect from an executioner. It was like a mix of dark chocolate and silk that gave Sirius the sensation of his skin crawling.  
“Hurt him, Crouch, and I’ll break you so fast-” Sirius tried to threaten him, but Jugson socked Sirius in the mouth while Avery dug his disgusting nails so hard into Sirius’ arms that he was sure it was damaging the leather on his jacket.

He spat blood.

Just across the rocks, Crouch Jr. was choking Remus with an armbar and his wand was forcing the skin on Remus’ throat dipped with how hard the wand was pushed against the vein in his neck. “Let’s throw him over, _Dick_!”

“Never call me that again, Crouch.” Avery was less than amused even though Crouch Jr. found himself hilarious. Sirius hoped that’s not how everyone saw his quips. “We need to see if he’s useful first.”

“I’ll be about as useful to you as Jugson would be in a dress.” Remus was straining to talk and Sirius tried to get to him.

“Struggle more and I won’t let you watch Crouch have his fun.” Avery whispered his twisted words into Sirius ear and it made Sirius twitch with disgust. “Lupin is it?”

Remus sneered at him. Sirius tried to rip his arms free.

“Lupin, do you know where the sword of Godric Gryffindor is hidden?”

It was an odd request. What would death eaters want with the sword of Gryffindor?

“No one does, it’s part of its charm.” Remus tugged against Crouch Jr.

“And we were sure we’d never see an end to it all. Have your fun with that one, Crouch.” Avery dismissed Remus after a two question interrogation. 

Sirius’ eyes were wild with anger, fear, and white hot rage. It had been a long time since he’d lost control, but watching Barty Crouch Jr. leg go of Remus only to grab him again and shove him to the side - that called for a total train wreck of behavior not exhibited from Sirius Black since the days of his disinheritance. This time it wasn’t accidentally lighting the curtains in the dormitory on fire or banishing Peter’s Potions book, though.

He screamed Remus’ name so loudly that his star could hear it and shone brighter, lighting Sirius up like a bloody Christmas tree. 

Heaving his breath, all three scummy death eaters were flat on their backs and Sirius’ hands were shaking. Sirius didn’t take time to revel in blacking out. Instead he ran to the edge of what in reality should be called a fucking mountain, not a hill. There was no immediate sign of Remus on the rocky beach or in the dark water. 

Sirius apparated with a crack on the beach hundreds of feet below, frantic with worry. He couldn’t even lit his mind entertain the fear of Remus being dead. He just couldn’t. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a hand poking out of a sweater and then a mop of wet, but still curly sandy blonde hair. The dark, nearly black waves were lapping across him, hiding the rest of Remus from Sirius’ view.

He ran through the sand as fast as his combat boots would take him, coming to his knees at a slide. Sirius rolled Remus over and pressed an ear to his mouth. He wasn’t breathing. Then he put two fingers to the side of his neck and sighed in relief when he felt a pulse. 

“Thank Merlin a seven hundred foot drop can’t kill a bloody werewolf.” 

Sirius pulled Remus’ lanky and soaking wet body away from the waves and knelt next to him. With trembling hands, he pinched Remus’ nose and covered his mouth with his own, breathing calculated breaths and remembering Lily’s instructions after the midnight-dance-with-the-giant-squid incident. After a few breaths, he pumped his hands against Remus’ chest, counting the seconds. Again. Again.

Again.

Then as he took his lips off of Remus’ the fifth time, Remus began to cough. Water sprayed out of his mouth and Sirius rolled him slightly onto his side, rubbing his back.  
“I’ve got you, Moony. I’ve got you.”

Remus heaved a few more times and then lie flat on his back, staring up at Sirius.

Gingerly, Sirius pushed the wet hair away from sticking to Remus’ forehead and exhaled, thanking anything that he was okay. “I thought I lost you.”

“You didn’t,” Remus croaked.

“I’d go mad.”

“You’re already mad, Padfoot.”

When Remus’ smirk returned to him, Sirius matched it. 

Fuck it, he thought, and I don’t even care to shake these zipper blues. 

Five years was long enough to wait.

Leaning down, Sirius only hesitating for a second above Remus’ lips before pressing his own to them. The salt and grit of the sand didn’t matter once Remus met his intensity and gripped the collar of his shirt to hold him close.

It was clumsy, impulsive, reckless, and beautiful. It was perfect. 

After a few brief, glorious moments of kissing Remus Lupin, he was pushed back. Those big, sad, beautiful eyes were staring up at him in wonder and all he could do was laugh.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” Admitting that to Remus was a weight of his chest.

“We’ll have to compare notes on that.” Remus’ slightly kiss-swollen lips curved and Sirius melted. “I think my right leg might be broken.”

“Shit.” Sirius bit his lip and hovered a hand over Remus’ leg. “Do you trust me?”

Closing his eyes hard, Remus nodded. “Just be careful. It’s tricky and difficult to do and we don’t even know just where our bones will rest once they’re fixed with magic until it’s done.”

Nodding, Sirius grabbed his wand from his jacket and did the familiar spell - just usually it was Lily on the wand end of the spell. Crack. When Remus didn’t wail in agony, Sirius threw his head back. He’d actually done it. “I’m going to pound those death eaters to dust.”

“Down boy.” At least Remus still had his sense of humor about him. “Can we at least try to get back to the flat first? We’ll set out looking for them tomorrow.”

“Can you walk?”

“I guess.”

Sirius put his shoulder under Remus’ arm, bracing a hand around his back and hoisted the both of them up. He knew the leg would still be tender, but Sirius also knew the needed to get the hell off of this beach.

“You think we’ll be alright to apparate?” Sirius asked, truly hoping that he didn’t have to drag Remus around the cliff, through the beach, and up the damn promenade to town.

“I’ve apparated in worse states.” It was obvious Remus was still favouring the previously broken leg. Sirius just hoped that he didn’t screw up the bone mending spell somehow. He’d make it up to him with a cup of tea.

Scatterbrained as always, Sirius couldn’t help but let a small, vain smirk escape. Remus drank his coffee black. Would it be so wrong to use a joke there? Probably.

“Get it over with, Pads.”

 _Crack_.

“Holy mother of Merlin’s fucking bollocks!” Remus pushed off of Sirius as the flat appeared around them. He hopped on one foot over to the couch and continued his nonsensical slur of curses, which Sirius found endearing.

“Tea?” Sirius neglected to add any type of joke about liking one’s tea in the same manner as they liked their men. It was bad taste and even though Remus would undoubtedly get the humor, he’d probably mention that it’s not supposed to apply to one’s last name. And then Remus would call him a twat.

Sirius didn’t wanted to be called a twat. He wanted to be called a lot of things in a lot of very sweaty, moaning ways, but that was not one of them.

“Ta.” Remus grumbled from flopping into the ancient cushions. “And I wouldn’t say no to a cwtch, either.”

“Haven’t heard you say that since Hogwarts.” Sirius put the kettle on.

Remus cocked a brow. “Haven’t heard you offer to make tea in that long.”

“Fair enough.”

The real problem with snuggling up with Remus Lupin is that he was just too damn snuggly. Sirius was supposed to have been comforting Remus and doting, but the last thing he remembered was telling Remus that he’d get up in a minute and grab the rest of the bourbons. With groggy eyes, he noticed the empty wrapper on the side table, so he must’ve followed through.

“Morning, Pads.” Remus had his glasses on the bride of his nose and the Prophet resting on his knee and he fingered through the hair by Sirius’ ear.

“Morning, Moony.” Sirius yawned and stretched his arms over his head, blocking the Prophet from view. “You feeling better?”

“If you call my leg being numb from the thigh down because you’re all dead weight once you’re asleep, then sure.”

“Hey, I made you tea and then gave you comfort.”

“You made me tea, forgot the biscuits, accio’d the biscuits, and then proceeded to eat all of them save the two I managed to piece together from broken bits.”

Sirius snorted and then rolled onto his back to stare at Remus properly. “Do you want to talk about last night?”

“We followed three death eaters, were attacked, I was thrown off a cliff and survived - one of the few perks of being a fucking werewolf. After that, you imploded on said death eaters and then we kissed. Good talk.”

Wincing, he noted a hint of something less than gratitude for the lack of biscuits. He’d buy more bourbons from the shop today. Hopefully if at least nothing else, that kiss didn’t get forgotten and absorbed into the Earth below the bloody mountain. Sirius would quite like to do it again.

“Stop brooding, Sirius.” Remus sipped a mug of tea that smelled suspiciously of vodka, but Sirius ignored that bit. He was used to his best friend’s odd coping mechanisms for pain.

With a scoff, Sirius sat up and put a hand to his chest in mock-insult. “I don’t brood. I smoulder.” 

Peering across Remus’ lap at the newspaper, he could see in large, bold letters ‘Double Cross’ across the top with Augustus Rookwood laughing in the vacant and the bored manner that Sirius had known most pureblood offspring to have been taught.  
“He a tosser,” said Sirius, absentmindedly.

Quirking a brow, Remus looked over at him and pushed his glasses up the curve of his nose. “He was an unspeakable. And the ministry doesn’t have a clue where he’d gotten off to.”

“Sickle says Dumbledore asks Caradoc to chase after him.” Sirius winked.

“Good luck to him, then.” Remus shoved the paper off of the arm of the couch and slowly lifted his eyes to meet Sirius’. “While you were asleep, I looked into Hepzibah Smith. She has a son that’s still alive. One that inherited his estate.”

“Alright, so what does that have to do with anything?”

“Hepzibah Smith’s son lives here in town.”

“In _this_ town.”

“Yes.”

“Why would anyone choose to live in this town?”

“For the same reason most people would.”

Sirius cocked his head, not getting Remus’ point.

“Love makes you do the wacky.” 

“So...” Sirius picked up his wand and flicked it towards the kettle. “He fell for some bird and had a couple a’ kids?”

“No.” Remus smirked. “I believe he fell for bloke and opened up a pub.”

“Oh. _Oh_.” 

“Fancy breakfast at the Nag’s?”

The hidden wizarding pub was all but empty save for what Sirius swore must’ve been a hag eating a Full English with a pint of Guinness. The thought made him shudder. As usual, Cledwyn was behind the bar, next to the till, and chatting with a man who had his red hair tied back and nearly tucked into the collar of his cloak.

 _Heilyn Smith_. 

“ _Bore da_ , lads.” Cledwyn gave them a nod as they sat down at the bar. “Y’ ‘avin’ brekky, then?”

“Two fulls. _Diolch_.” Remus tucked his curls behind his ear and Sirius had to make a fist so that he didn’t repeat the motion for him.

Heilyn Smith gave them a smile. His face was as warm as the pub felt. Sirius got the distinct impression than the bloke was a lot more than he let on and that was intriguing. The crow’s feet and laugh lines across his face seemed to extend through the Nag’s Head and it’s what he felt whenever he was here. Remus liked to tell Sirius that he was uncivilized because he never noticed the details, but when he did, it was like bloody Guy Fawkes Day.

Sirius cleared his throat and slid down a few stools to be one away from Heilyn. Remus looked mortified from his spot at the bar. “Sorry, but are you Heilyn Smith?” He could almost feel Remus downing his tea and wishing he was under the bar. One thing Sirius Black lacked: tact. It was lost somewhere in the pureblood inbreeding, he guessed.

Rather than being offended or defensive, Heilyn stroked his beard and gave a chuckle. “Haven’t gone by that name in a while.”

Cledwyn was busying himself making up the breakfasts in the kitchen just in the back. He clanged pans on the burners and was no wiser to their conversation.

By the time Sirius was holding his jaw closed with his fist and an elbow on the table, Remus had joined them, scooping up black pudding with his bacon and alternating it with his eggs. Cledwyn was shaking the hag awake so she could finish her breakfast rather than sleep with her cheek in it.

“I know they’ll come. But, they're not sure just what we have in store. I’m surprised you pieced it all together, Lupin.” Heilyn - or, Glyn, as he’d gone by here - sipped on a whiskey while Sirius stuck to a cuppa and Remus continued on with his morphine city slipping dues.

“He’s quite perceptive, that one.” Sirius smiled and patted Remus on the back. “But what are you going to do when they come, Glyn? Why don’t you just leave?”

“Leave?” This caught Glyn off guard. “Leave the Nag’s? I’ve been here since before everything between me mum and that Riddle lad. I’ll go down with this bleedin’ place if I have to.”

After going down to see Cledwyn and Heilyn - Glyn - Sirius wondered if that was a large chunk of the reason they were in this fever-inducing little town. He shoved his hands into his pockets and bumped his shoulder into Remus’. 

“Can you believe the heir of Hufflepuff just owns a bar with his man and lives a quiet life?” Sirius shook his head as they walked the few blocks back to their flat.

“What do you expect him to do? His mother was murdered in cold blood for her obsession with the idea of being an ‘heir’.” Remus rolled a cigarette and pressed it between his lips. “I just can’t believe he thought that we don’t even care. Of course we care.”

“Most people just go to the Nag’s for a pint, not to preserve a bit of history and protect the barkeeps from imminent death.” 

“I think Dumbledore knew.”

“Knew about Glyn when he had Moody post us here? Yeah, so do I.” Sirius took the cigarette from Remus’ mouth and took a few drags before handing it back. “I’m sick of everything being so cryptic.”

“Well, as restless as we are, I think we should regroup. Try to contact someone else in the order. If Avery, Crouch, and Jugson are searching for Glyn, they’ll find him eventually. And when it turns up he doesn’t have anything, they’re going to kill him. We feel exhausted. We need a plan.” Remus fumbled for the keys and took the cigarette back once they reached the front door. 

Sirius nodded in agreement, paying more attention to the curve in Remus’ jaw than anything else.

*********

A sleepy little town has a lot to take in. The pull in the land was a mix of a thousand guilts, and poured cement. It was lamented and assured and Remus was drawn to it. He was drawn to it in the same way that he was drawn to Sirius. There was so much life and vibrancy wrapped and concentrated in one confined space that it poured over the edges like the two mugs Remus was balancing in one hand from the kitchen to the couch.

He felt the need to pause for an instant, though. Sirius was draped over the late Hepzibah Smith’s diary, engrossed in it’s flamboyant cursive. Glyn had given it to them and said he prefered not to have it back. It might lead people on to his past. Remus could respect that. He thought of the mark along his side and then he thought of Sirius. Sirius had never cared about his past. Now, sat there reading about a woman who had been dead for 19 years, he looked as calm as Remus could ever remember him.

Maybe it was now or never.

Waiting too long would be awkward and he was nearly positive that he’d caught Sirius stealing glances at him most of the day. 

Remus set the mugs down on the side table and then pulled the diary from Sirius’ lap, setting it upside down beside the tea. 

“You alright, Moony?” Sirius cocked his head in the same manner that Padfoot did, and it made Remus smile.

“Yeah, actually, I am.” As he sat down beside Sirius, their fingers overlapped on the cushion. Remus forced the lump in his throat down and lifted his hand up, brushing it across Sirius’ cheek and then holding it there.

He could feel that Sirius’ breathing had momentarily stopped, but Remus’ did too when Sirius placed his hand overtop. “...Remus.”

“Sirius.” Remus smirked and caught the glimmer in Sirius’ eye that was like the stars bearing down to the lights and towns below them. It was intense and Remus couldn’t look away, so he did the only other thing he could do. He kissed him again.

The need and relief was absent this time. Instead, they thrust years of want and desire into each other’s mouths and it was hard to tell where he stopped and Sirius began. It was brilliant and electric. It was everything Remus had craved whenever he listened to Sirius but paid no attention to what he said, just the way in which his lips moved.

They moved quick and deep. Remus was trying to breath in between crashing his nose against Sirius’ cheek and dragging his tongue against the bottom of his teeth. Sirius’ lips were the Irish Sea he’d plummeted into just last night and he was a buoy holding out in the storm. 

Technically smoking was prohibited in the flat they were renting. Currently, Remus Lupin thought the rules could sod off. He was lying in just his pants, on the floor, next to the boy - man - that he’d loved for some time now. Only, Sirius didn’t know anything other than Remus’ enjoyment in kissing him. It would do for now.

Remus passed the cigarette back to Sirius, who was also in just his pants. “I had a thought.”

Sirius inhaled the smoke and then let it curl out of a small opening between his lips. “You seem to have a lot of those today. Go on.”

“Jugson came up to me out of the blue and asked me where I was from - in Welsh.” 

“And?”

“We know that they don’t have a clue who Heilyn Smith really is, so what if he was testing to see if it was me. Helga Hufflepuff was from the valleys, so theoretically, her descendants would be Welsh as well.”

“Would explain why they left out and started walking towards Borth. To try and ransack your imaginary place in Borth for any leftover heirlooms that may have a connection to Godric Gryffindor.”

“Until they found us. Then they figured out pretty quickly I wasn’t an heir to anything once they recognized you.”

Sirius scrubbed his face and then took another drag from the cigarette. “They must know it’s someone at the Nag’s, though. Cledwyn said they’ve been there every night for a few weeks.”

Remus nodded. It was inevitable they’d figure it out. Jugson might be thick, but Avery wasn’t. And Crouch was crazy enough to put it all together. “So what’s the plan, then?”

Sirius’ gears were definitely turning. He exhaled a stream of smoke and closed his eyes. “Well, what’s the plan that doesn’t expose Cledwyn and Glyn?”

Taking a minute to think, he slid his hand across Sirius’ bare chest, enjoying the way his muscles tensed.

“You know what we need to do.” Twitching slightly under Remus’ touch, Sirius smiled and sat up.

“You’re gonna say we need to go to the bloody pub, aren’t you?”

“To the Nag’s!”

“I don’t know how much more of Cledwyn’s food I can stomach.”

“It’s not _that_ bad.”

Remus glared at him and pushed him back down into the carpet again. “Speak for yourself.”

 

“Shwmae, lads.” Cledwyn nodded to them as they walked into the pub again. 

They ordered their usual: shepherd’s pie for Remus and a lamb dinner with extra mint gravy on the side. Remus was beginning to wretch just at the smell of mint gravy, while Sirius was ready to start just drinking it on it’s own. The hag was back in her corner, this time with chips, gravy, and a Guinness. 

Tonight, though, they sat at the bar and not their high top table. And this time Sirius didn’t hesitate to grab his hand and entwine their fingers underneath the bar. It wasn’t anything that went unspotted by Cledwyn nor Glyn, who kept winking at them. It was one big ‘I’m in love with my best friend from school’ secret that didn’t need saying out loud - not yet. They had time.

The only problem with sitting at the bar with their backs to the door was that they were exposed. Even Remus’ werewolf ears didn’t pick up the crack of someone apparating. Apparition was sometimes faster than the speed of sound. He was also laughing at Cledwyn’s story about the hag too much to turn quick enough when the window was blasted in.

Rubbing his temple, Remus had somehow ended up on the floor with Glyn gripping his forearm to yank him up and behind the bar. 

“They found you faster than we thought.” Remus stumbled against the liquor shelf and rummaged in his cloak. Once he had his wand, he threw up a protection spell so that Avery’s green bolt of light ricocheted off and hit an already dying fern by the window.

“We knew they would, just like we knew you were the two Dumbledore sent.” He offered a smile before shooting a nasty hex at Jugson, who fell back through the broken window. “We’d go into hiding, but that really isn’t the life for us.”

Remus had more respect for Glyn than most wizards he knew. Stubborn as hell, but in the best and most absolutely stupid of ways.

There was another explosion in the corner. The hag grabbed her satchel and was suddenly gone. Other patrons were hiding under their tables, but most were fleeing out with the residing sound of a car backfiring. Remus wished they hadn’t come back to the Nag’s Head tonight. The red door was blown off its hinges and Cledwyn’s lip was bleeding into his beard. 

Managing to stun Jugson, Remus hopped over the bar to join Sirius in dueling Crouch. He was an unpredictable dueler and was shooting off curses in every direction that it was hard to put up enough shield charms.

“We know you’re hiding him. Why do you want to hide an old, useless heir anyway? What’s he to you?” Crouch Jr. taunted them.

He was separated from Sirius by a series of flying pots and pans from the kitchen. Cledwyn was throwing out all the tricks. Crouch Jr. was battered with cookery and it gave Remus time to dart after Jugson while Sirius slashed his wand at Avery.

In a matter of minutes, the Nag’s Head was aflame, a wreck, and sounded like it was going to crumble. Crouch Jr. was still passed out underneath most of the Nag’s kitchen, Jugson was stunned by the front door, and Avery was petrified on the floor in front of them. 

Beneath the sound of hope in the disaster, Sirius had a hand on the small of his back and was leaning his forehead on Remus’ shoulder. Remus had put his arm around Sirius. He held him close until Sirius used the positioning to grab Remus’ arse, making him jump about a foot in the air. Sirius never knew the rules - and even if he did, he ignored them.

Glyn stooped down, looking Avery directly in the eye. “It’s me you old fool. So while you’re hung down with the freaks and the ghouls, doing the bidding of a master who wouldn’t care if you died, I’ll already be gone.”

“Thought you wouldn’t leave the Nag’s Head?” Remus frowned, swatting Sirius’ hand away before he could grab at him again.

“It was a fuckin’ shite hole anyway.” Cledwyn chuckled and patted Glyn on the shoulder to stand back up. “C’mon, love. We’ll find a new town.”

“Can it not be so bloody windy?”

“If you wish.”

Remus watched the tenderness between them and the joy in their eyes. He immediately felt horrible and took a step towards them.

Glyn held his hand up, already figuring out what Remus was about to say. “No apologies ever need be made. Although, Remus,” he leaned in to whisper, “I know you better than you fake it.”

“Fake what?” Remus jumped back and then looked at Sirius, who was surveying the damage.

“Y’ know, lad.” Cledwyn winked at him. “ _Bore da_.”

_Crack_. They were gone.

 

It really weighed on him about what the two men meant as he walked back to the flat with Sirius for the final time. Remus thought about how he street heated the urgency of now. He thought about the missions their friends were on, most of them split up and Merlin knew where. How long before Dumbledore decided to sent them on their separate ways? 

Remus didn’t want to know.

“Pads?”

“Hmm?” Sirius turned on his heel and flicked his cigarette into the street. 

“As you see,” Remus grabbed his hand and pulled him close so that he was standing nose-to-nose with him, “there's no one around.”

Sirius grinned. “Right you are, Moony.” 

Grabbing him by the collar of his leather jacket, Remus pushed his lips into Sirius’. He didn’t even care about the faint taste of mint gravy.


End file.
